


Is There A Reason You're Naked in My Bed?

by DaringlyDomestic



Series: Tumblr Drabble Challenge [19]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:16:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaringlyDomestic/pseuds/DaringlyDomestic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Drabble Challenge #6</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is There A Reason You're Naked in My Bed?

Sherlock notices the light shining through the crack of his bedroom door as soon as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. He moves silently down the corridor and pushes open the door.  

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

John is sprawled in the center of Sherlock’s large bed. The bedside lamp is on and every detail of John is illuminated for Sherlock’s viewing pleasure. 

“Your sheets are nicer than mine. More comfortable.”

John mutters sleepily and burrows into the pillow under his head. 

“Are you drunk?”

John blinks groggily and sits halfway up. 

“No...?”

Sherlock’s feet shuffle. He stands next to the bed looking anywhere but at John. 

“Well I’ll just...”

He waves vaguely toward the kitchen.

“I have a gangrenous foot I’ve been meaning to get to...”

“Sherlock.”

John commands Sherlock’s attention with a single word. He doesn’t even need to raise his voice. Suffused with the power of Captain Watson, John’s soft voice is enough. Sherlock turns reluctantly toward John, his face wiped worryingly blank. He stands like carved marble, waiting for John’s judgment. 

John grips Sherlock’s hand and pats the bed.

“Sit, please?”

Sherlock curls one leg underneath himself and sits facing John. 

“I wanted to be here.”

Sherlock’s brow pinches with confusion. 

“In this bed.”

Sherlock’s mouth opens, but John beats him to it. The words pour out of him in a long stream that he couldn’t stop even if he so desired.

“I wanted to be near you. I always want to be near you. I knew you would be late tonight, so I came here to wait. Your bed is warm and smells like you. I wanted to talk, but I think I fell asleep. I’m sorry I joked about it when you got here. I wasn’t awake yet. And I just...”

John draws in a deep breath and looks up to meet Sherlock’s gaze. 

“I love you, Sherlock. God help me, I do. And I want more, I want everything with you. And I was wondering if, maybe that’s something you might want too?”

“John.”

That single word says more than John has managed with five times that many sentences. Hope, anxiety, fear, and love, they’re all there in that one word. They’re in the gentle tremor that runs through John’s hand as he clasps Sherlock’s cheek so, so carefully. They’re in the tear that leaks from Sherlock’s eye. They’re in the tender press of lips meeting _finally_ after all this time. They’re in the panting breaths of two broken men starting to heal, working together to fix each other at last. 


End file.
